


Oh, Bother

by 1nsomnizac



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Distorted Thinking, Gen, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-29 03:18:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5114063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1nsomnizac/pseuds/1nsomnizac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>GameFAQs user winnie the poop 2 plays SBURB. GameFAQs user winnie the poop 2 has some issues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. ==> Wake up.

Your name is Jay Wang. Today, the 11th of April, 2009, is the day you play your copy of the beta of SBURB.

It’s one fifteen in the afternoon and you are just now getting up. You curse yourself like you do every day, hate yourself for being a colossal disappointment to your parents, and check your phone to see if you missed any appointments. To your dismay, the mental disability evaluation you were supposed to attend began four hours ago.

A sinking feeling settles in your gut. Without the evaluation, you are not likely to receive disability income from the government. It wasn’t even your idea to apply. You always felt dishonest about asking for money from the government. You held a job for three months in college, so clearly if you can’t get a job after two years of trying, you just aren’t trying hard enough. And now you’ve even fucked up getting government assistance. You really are a worthless sack of shit, aren’t you?

You look over at the bottle of antidepressants on your nightstand. There really is no need to take those, you think. It’s not as though you will do anything productive that needs you at your best. You think this even as that part of you wonders whether it would be possible to overdose on antidepressants, and whether it is a prolonged death. You are fairly certain no one would find you for several hours at least.

You drag yourself out of bed to take a shower. The water is scalding hot, but you get under it anyway. You deserve to suffer for your failure.

You cut the water at five minutes. You haven’t washed your hair; about half of it is still dry. It doesn’t matter, though. You won’t need to look good for anyone today.

You need to do a load of laundry; you are out of T-shirts. You put on a button up shirt over your shoulders and start separating the laundry in your hamper and scattered about your room. you leave your shirt unbuttoned.

When your first load of laundry has made it to the washer, you pour yourself a cup of Coke and return to your room. Now the whole room smells like dirty laundry. You open a window and turn on a fan, then grab your GBA and take it to the couch with your soda. It’s now about two fifteen.

All at once, you are whisked away to Hoenn, and you spend an hour grinding levels, then five minutes defeating a Gym Leader and some Team goons. There is something immensely satisfying about working hard at something and having it pay off quickly. Not like in real life. No effort you’ve made in the last two years has paid off.

Eventually, hunger pains drive you to the kitchen. You heat up some leftover masala and eat it with pita bread. Boiling water for rice seems like a monumental investment of effort and patience right now. You drink another two cups of Coke.

You go back to your room to check your email and various website accounts. Your room still smells like old socks. You grab another pile of laundry and move the load already in the wash to the dryer. It is now four o’clock.

You are back in your room. The smell of socks is muted but still present. Nothing interesting is on Facebook, just people from high school and college doing things with their lives while you sit there, sessile and stupid, wasting your young years in helpless idleness. On gameFAQs, your review of Metroid Fusion has received some positive attention. You enjoy the validation.

You check your phone. Text from Jim. Have you downloaded SBURB yet? No you haven’t, because it is in the mailbox and the mailbox is outside and you can’t go outside because you don’t have a shirt on. You return to the laundry room, wait for the cycle to end, pull a still-hot shirt from the dryer and throw it on.

The sky is bright, too bright. All around you, suburban houses and tended gardens sit and pass judgement on you. It seems to be facade to you, a mask over some piece missing from the soul. There is no community here, only proximity.

 

> Something kinda sad about  
>  the way that things have come to be.  
>  Desensitized to everything,  
>  what became of subtlety?  
>  How can it mean anything to me  
>  if I really don't feel anything at all?

\-- Rock and Roll legend Paul McCartney

  
You grab your mail and go inside. The sun is starting to set, and you feel a strange wave of world-weariness. You have a feeling it’s going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The quote is from the song "Stinkfist" by Tool.


	2. ==> Go Inside

====> Go Inside.

You retreat inside, away from the brightness devoid of warmth, and into the static world of your parents house. The living room has not changed much since you were a child. It looks much the same as it did before depression took possession of your mind. Even as your life fell to pieces, the room watched, unmoved. You imagine that it will not change until long after you are dead.

You climb up the stairs and return to your room. It is still strewn with socks and suffused with their scent. You did this to yourself. You feel exhausted for no good reason.

====> Pick Up Socks.

You stand in the doorway, swaying forward slightly. You adjust the stack of mail in your hand. You nudge a sock with your toe. You urge yourself to perform even the smallest task to make your life livable.

====> Get On With It!

You attempt to get on with it. Everyone else on the planet can just do things with ease, but you struggle with it. You tell yourself it is because you are lazy. You tell yourself it is a moral failure even though you know you are disabled and that executive dysfunction is one of your problems.

You set the mail on the floor by your door and bend down to pick up the nearest sock. Then the next one. Then the next one. When you think you have all of them, you walk down to the laundry room. You realize that you have yet to move your first run of laundry from the dryer, nor the second run from the washer, and you want to cry.

You set down the socks and pull the dry clothes from the dryer. They are no longer warm. You want to curl up and die. You drop them outside the laundry room door across from the socks. You want to curl up and die. You put the clothes in the washer into the dryer and turn it on. You want to curl up and die. You put your socks in the washer. You want to curl up and die. You add detergent. You want to curl up and die. You close the door and run the machine.

You feel exhausted.

====> Return to your room.

You go to the kitchen and pour a tall glass of Coke. The bubbles do nothing to soothe you. You remember when you used to walk the mile to the nearest McDonald’s, allowance money in your pocket, excited to buy something that made life taste good, if only for a while, and free refills of Coke while you did your homework and read a book.

Coca-Cola no longer relieves your depression. That makes you feel sad. You go back to your room.

====> Install SBURB.

Not yet. You need some time to recover. You lay down on your bed and notice a few socks you missed. You feel like crying.

Your phone buzzes. It is Jim again, on pesterchum.

Welcome, auroraElemental [AE].

Your chum emphaticSyllables [ES] pestered you at 18:01 PST

ES: are we doing this or what, man?

ES: if u wanna do this tomorrow I can go 2 a bar or something

AE: We’re doing this

ES: we’re making this happen? :Y

AE: ...

ES: bunp

AE: Are you still reading that shitty webcomic? Still?

ES: it's artistic licence, man. it's *supposed* 2 look like that

AE: More likely it’s just a shitty comic a shitty six year old makes

AE: I bet you enjoy it just because it messes with me.

ES: what about that joke about the mom? do u think a 6yo wrote that?

AE: All right, maybe not. Probly just a teenage troll, though

AE: I have the game here. Do you wanna be the server or player?

ES: you be my server.

ES: i will be server for ir, and ir will be your server.

AE: IR? It’s a native release, isn’t she in Korea?

ES: no, she’s staying with her cousin in the oc for a few months.

AE: Okay

ES: its not gonna b weird, is it?

AE: no,

ES: good. i wanna play this game.

AE: It's loading the server disc.

ES: no politics this time. i mean it.

AE: No politics. I promise.


	3. ==> Be IR

==> Be IR

Your name is SEONG JI-YEONG. It just so happens that yesterday, the 10th of April, was your twenty-second birthday, and you are still nursing a MASSIVE HANGOVER from last night’s celebrations.

You are on a two week vacation from your job as a foreign affairs consultant for your uncle’s BIOTECHNOLOGY COMPANY based in his native SOUTH KOREA. You took the job after graduating from the UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, IRVINE with a major in GENDER AND SEXUALITY STUDIES.

You have a variety of INTERESTS. You enjoy several COMPUTER GAMES, which are strewn about your cousin’s guest room, in which you are currently standing. You enjoy several OBSCURE 1980S FANTASY NOVELS, which are not strewn about but stowed carefully inside a SHOEBOX in one of your suitcases. You also practice GOTHIC CALLIGRAPHY but you are NOT VERY GOOD AT IT.

You are a proud INTERSECTIONAL FEMINIST, and want to CRUSH THE PATRIARCHY in your own way. This primarily involves PREVENTING SEXIST ADVERTISEMENTS from being released by your uncle’s company, and ARGUING WITH PEOPLE ON THE INTERNET.

One of the places you argue is Pesterchum, where you go by the handle intersectingRadishes. You have had many arguments with your friend auroraElemental about feminist theory. Your most recent argument ended in angry words that you regret saying. Your other friends tell you that you should stop speaking to him, but you are hesitant to do so. You have known him for years, and he has given you good insight on issues that affect men. He also admits when his argument has been refuted more gracefully than you do. 

Your other gaming partner, emphaticSyllables, has roped you into playing the beta of a game called SBURB. The details of gameplay are a bit hazy, but if it’s anything like the “Spore meets World of Warcraft” romp you were promised, it should be fun.

==> Check Pesterchum.

You look at your phone. The time reads 11:11. You open your Pesterchum application and scroll through your Chumroll. There’s emphaticSyllables and auroraElemental. You see that they both left you birthday messages yesterday, though you haven’t responded to AE’s. You are not sure if you want to talk to either of them just yet. You’ll be able to catch up this evening over SBURB. You eye the envelopes on the desk. You feel an unaccustomed uneasiness at the thought of using them just yet.

==> Do 2009 things to pass the time.

You call up some of your college friends who stayed in Orange County. They all can drive now, though you still don’t have your license. You never needed one in Daegu, and it wouldn’t transfer to the states. One of your friends is seeing Fast and Furious and invites you along, and you spend a fun afternoon with friends.

==> Get On With It.

You finally return home and turn on your desktop. The movie was alright, though it did not pass the Bechdel test and had some blatant male gaze that took you out of it. You had fun talking about it with your former classmates.

You hear a beep, indicating a notification from Pesterchum. You look at your phone.

\-- At 18:10 PST emphaticSyllables [es] changed their handle to dactylSpondee [ds]. --

You wonder why he changes his handle so often. This is the third time this year. Well, you suppose you’d better make contact about this game.

==> Talk to DS.

\-- intersectingRadishes [IR] began pestering [DS] at 18:11 --

IR: All right Jim. Does AE have his game yet?

DS: yeah, he loaded his copy of the server disc, but he stopped to take a shower.

IR: Its a 1/4 past Six. Why is he taking a shower?

DS: he had a rough day. he missed his disability assessment and based on what he said he has been moping out for hours.

DS: i don’t know how much he told u about that stuff. i probably should not have said that.

IR: He told me about it, dont worry. Its too bad hes struggling Like That.

DS: yeah.

DS: listen. i know u guys got in a big fight last time.

DS: he says stuff that runs counter to what you believe. he’s a bit of a dick about it.

IR: More than a Bit.

DS: sure. but i think that he needs us to help him out of a bad place.

DS: he is probably suicidal.

IR: cant he get other help?

DS: maybe, but i doubt it. he has no friends besides us. 

IR: What about his Parents? Didnt he have Other chums on here, too?

DS: they blocked him a while ago. i think he tried to debate religion or something. 

IR: Dear Lord. I bet he doesn’t even Try to reach to his Classmates. 

DS: yeah. he never connected with them. 

DS: here’s what i want 2 do. 

DS: we play the game. when he does well, we suggest he should play with some other people, too. when we stop playing for the day when he’s doing well. i found a therapist in his area i think can help him. i’ll suggest it to him when he’s in a good mood. 

IR: You put a lot of effort into this. I didnt even know you Could call therapists for friends. But wouldn’t it be better to suggest it when he’s Not doing well? 

DS: no, he’ll be too convinced it’s hopeless. he needs me to show him he can succeed before he has any hope. i need to save him from himself.

IR: “I”?

IR: Why are You his sole Knight in Shining Armor? Do you think your fair He-damsel will fall lovestruck into his Rescuers arms?

DS: are you accusing me of having ulterior motives? >:^(

DS: not cool. what are you implying? that i would not do this for him unless i liked him?

DS: just because I like men doesn’t mean i like him, As You Well Know.

DS: miss Gender And Sexuality Studies Degree.

DS: i literally just told you he can be a dick sometimes

DS: and you think I want to sweep him off his feet?

IR: Methinks the lady doth Protest too Much.

DS: >:^O ooh!!!

IR: Before you respond further,

IR: Youve been acting kind of weird about him,

IR: Like you acted around the ex-who-must-not-be-named.

IR: It seemed like you liked him.

DS: maybe i do think he’s cute. but you still kind of implied that i wouldn’t try to save a friend unless i digged them.

IR: I am sorry. I didn’t think the message through.

DS: that’s all right.

IR: So you’re my server player, right?

DS: yeah, and you’re AE’s server.

IR: All right. Let me know when he’s ready.


	4. Jay: Pedal to the Metal

You have to fight yourself to get everything done. Focus on getting your hair washed, one step at a time. All right, is all the shampoo out of your hair? Okay. Now lather up. Focus on shaving, one step at a time. The disposable razor is getting dull. You should have gotten a new one out. Shave anyway. People are waiting on you, and you are already late. It’s amazing how much work you can pull out of that mantra. All right. Shaving is done. Oh, wait, shit, you missed a spot! Fuck! You’re worthless. Just fucking take care of it. Ow! You fucking cut yourself. Back under the water. Ow, that cut stings. All right. Extra soap under the armpits. All right. Rinse. Okay, water off.

Where the fuck is your towel? Oh, right, in the wash. The clean towels are stored right outside the bathroom. You walk slowly with wet feet on the smooth tile, ignoring the part of your brain saying, the clock’s ticking, go go, GO!

You get a towel, then rub your hair with it until it stops dripping, then move on to the rest of your body. You use the corner that has fallen to the floor to wipe up your trail of water. Once you feel pretty dry you lift the towel to wrap it around your waist, when you notice you got blood from your shaving cut on the towel. You run it under a hot tap until it disappears and then you’re on your way.

New shirt. New underwear. New pants. Despite your towelling, you manage to discover a few damp patches on your legs. Too late to fix that, your pants have already gotten wet and dried you off. The damp spots haven’t bled through. Small favors, you think. You pile the mess scattered on the floor into your closet and sit down at your desk.

SBURB version 0.0.1  
© SKAIANET SYSTEMS INCORPORATED. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.  
SBURB host is running.  
A SBURB client user is attempting to connect with you.  
Host has established connection with client.  
Press ENTER when ready.  


\-- auroraElemental [AE] began pestering dactylSpondee [DS] at 18:51 --

AE: Okay dude, it says we’re connected!

AE: All right let’s do this!

AE: LEEEROOOY...


End file.
